by Sherri Hayes
He laughed. “Nah. You’re not old, Ma. Just seasoned.” Gage winked.
Mary rolled her eyes.
“So,” Trent said to his brother. “No entourage today?”
Gage shrugged, reached for a bottle of water, and downed it in what seemed to be one swallow. “Well, I for one am glad you didn’t bring one of those girls you seem to like to hang around with,” his father said.
Gage ignored the comment and turned his attention to Elizabeth. “And who do we have here?”
After introductions were made, Gage strolled over to take a seat at the end of her lounger. “Well, that’s a pity. We could use another pretty face in Nashville.” She was floored by all the flirting. First Trent and now Gage. Chris was always so serious. It was hard to believe they were part of the same family.
Chris seemed less than amused as he pushed himself forcefully from his chair and excused himself, disappearing into the house. She just didn’t understand him.
Fifteen minutes later, Chris emerged from the house and offered to help his father with the grilling.
The day continued on in that vein with the brothers flirting with her and Chris getting ticked off, disappearing into the house only to reappear fifteen to twenty minutes later. She tried not to let it ruin her day, but try as she might, she couldn’t remain unaffected.
As they were getting ready to leave, Trent cornered her. “I was wondering if you’d like to go out to dinner with me on Saturday. I know this great Mexican place in Dayton.”
She looked behind him to Chris and Trent followed her line of sight before she could catch herself.
“Are you and Chris . . .”
“No,” she said unable to keep the disappointment completely out of her voice. “No.”
“Well then, there’s no reason for you not to accept, is there? Or don’t you like me?”
That made her laugh, which drew Chris’s attention. She caught his stare and it sobered her. She turned her attention back to Trent and kept it there. “Okay. Sure. I haven’t had Mexican in a long time.”
Trent’s smile was the kind that would have girls swooning. Unfortunately, she feared her heart was already attached to someone else.
“Excellent! I’ll pick you up at five thirty.”
She smiled. “I’ll see you Saturday, then.”
Before she knew what was happening, Trent leaned in and kissed her on the cheek. She blushed. “Till Saturday,” he whispered before stepping away.
Okay, Chris thought. This is my own stupid, moronic, idiotic fault.
All the way home, he was fuming. Seeing Trent with his lips on Elizabeth had made him want to break something, preferably something attached to his brother. He’d never felt this way before, not even with Carol, and his head was spinning.
No one said a word during the hour-long drive home. Even Jan was oddly quiet.
It was a little before midnight when they pulled up to the house. Elizabeth and Jan got out first while he hung back. He just wasn’t ready to deal with whatever had happened between her and Trent.
From the cab of his truck, he watched the two women approach the door. Jan stopped, reached down, and picked up what looked to be a newspaper, and Elizabeth peered over Jan’s shoulder to look at whatever it was. Suddenly both women stiffened, and Chris was out of the truck like lightning. He took the paper from Jan and looked at it.
The newspaper was dated seven months ago, and on the front page was a large picture of a woman dressed in designer clothes. Even with her head down and surrounded by police officers, the woman was still recognizable.
The headline read: MURDER OR SELF DEFENSE?
Whoever had left the newspaper had added a personal touch, outlining the word Murder in dark red ink, circling her face, and drawing an X through it.
Chris scanned the area, but the person who’d left the paper was probably long gone. “Let’s get inside,” he said, not wanting to take any chances.
After checking the alarm, he made the two women wait in the foyer while he checked the rest of the house and alarms. Everything appeared secure. At least that was something.
Before returning, he took out his cell phone.
“Hello?” A groggy voice answered.
“Detective Stephens?”
“Yes,” he said, sounding more alert. “Who’s this?”
“My name is Chris Daniels. I live in the building with Elizabeth Marshall. You told her to call if anything else happened.”
“Yes, I did.” He could hear shifting in the background and figured the detective was probably getting out of bed.
After Chris told him what happened, he said, “Someone is at the house now?”
“Yes. We’re all here.”
“I’ll be there in twenty minutes.”
Detective Stephens didn’t stay long. He asked a bunch of questions such as where they’d been, what time they’d left and returned home, which Chris answered. Elizabeth wasn’t feeling up to dealing with people. In fact, what she wanted to do was hide in her bedroom for about a week.
“Ms. Marshall?’
She looked up at the detective from where she sat on Jan’s couch with a cup of hot chocolate cupped in her hands. He was much older than she’d originally thought when she’d spoken with him over the phone. He had laugh lines around his mouth and eyes, and gray speckled through his light brown hair. “I’ve checked the surrounding area. Everything looks secure. I’m taking the paper with me and will have it dusted for prints, although getting a clean one off newspaper is tricky with the ink they use. I would suggest you have someone with you at all times when you go out, and make sure your doors are locked until we can find out who’s behind this.”
She just stared at him until she realized he was waiting for a response. “Sure.”
“You don’t have any idea who could be behind this?” He seemed doubtful.
Her shoulders sagged as she released a deep breath. “No. I mean, you read the article in the paper. People weren’t all that happy about what happened, but I never expected anyone to track me down here. Why would they?”
“Mr. Daniels said you received a phone call last week from your mother-in-law.”
She shook her head. “Abigail’s angry, yes, but I can’t see her doing this. She’s a very straightforward kind of person. She’d just show up on my doorstep and slap me, or something.”
“Grief can cause people to act out of character, Ms. Marshall.”
She shook her head. “It’s not her.”
“Well,” the detective said, straightening up, “I’m going to check it out anyway, just to be sure.”
She nodded, not feeling like arguing a moot point.
When they were alone again, Jan sat beside her. “Is there anything I can do dear?”
“No, but thanks. I think I’m just going to go up to bed now.”
“You’re more than welcome to stay here if you’d like.”
“Thank you. Again. But I’d really like to sleep in my own bed.” When it looked like Jan was going to argue, she said, “We have the alarm, and they didn’t come inside this time. I’ll be fine. Besides, you and Chris are right next door.”
Jan patted her arm and stood. “Okay then. You come get me if you need anything or if you change your mind.”
“I will.”
She returned her empty mug to the kitchen and hugged Jan goodnight before trudging her way up the single flight of stairs to her apartment. When she reached the landing, she noticed Chris standing in his doorway.
“You’re sleeping up here?” he asked.
“Yeah.”
He nodded, not seeming surprised. “My door is staying open tonight,” he said and then turned and walked up the stairs, the door remaining open just as he’d said it would.
For some reason, everything felt different as she walked into her apartment, alone for the first time since that morning. It seemed like a lifetime ago.
Flashes of that night came back to her, and she could feel the blood coveri
ng her hands along with the porcelain from the vase she’d used to defend herself and ultimately put an end to her abuser.
With desperation, she ran to her bathroom and turned on the shower. She felt so dirty. The only thing driving her was the need to get clean. As she stepped in, she thought, Will I ever get my life back? She began to cry.
Chris knocked his alarm to the floor in the process of trying to turn it off before rubbing the sleep from his eyes and making his way to the bathroom. It was going to be a long day considering his lack of sleep and motivation. Morning had come too soon. Detective Stephens hadn’t left until two in the morning, and getting to sleep after had been difficult. His mind just wouldn’t shut down, and he was glad he didn’t have to see any clients today.
Every time he closed his eyes, Elizabeth was there. Sometimes he thought of completely innocent things like her tapping her pen against her desk, as she was prone to do when she was deep in thought. Other times, usually right before he was about to drift off, his thoughts of her ran in a more erotic direction.
Last night they’d taken on the memory from last week of her walking out of his bedroom in nothing but his shirt and the blanket from his bed. Her bare legs teased him as they peeked beneath the thick fabric as if calling for him to unwrap her like a present, carry her back into his bedroom, and make her scream his name.
Thinking about all the ways he wanted to ravish her was not conducive to restful sleep. It was also rather uncomfortable.
After showering, he dressed in his work clothes and walked down the flight of stairs to his front door. It was still open, just as he’d left it the night before. Her door was closed, and he couldn’t hear any movement inside. That was good. She needed her rest.
Chris paused at her door, trying to imagine what she’d look like curled up in her bed fast asleep. The keys he carried to each of the apartments weighted heavy in his pocket tempting him, but he pushed the impulse aside. The last thing she needed after last night was him creeping into her apartment and startling her.
He forced himself keep walking until he stopped in front of Jan’s door and knocked.
It took her a while to get to the door, and he heard her pause, checking through the newly installed peephole to see who was outside before opening her door. She was still in her nightclothes, which wasn’t surprising considering it was only seven thirty in the morning. “Chris,” she said, surprised. “Is everything all right?”
“Everything’s fine as far as I can tell. I’m going to have a walk around outside before I leave just to be sure.”
“Oh, okay. Good.”
“I was wondering if you could bring Elizabeth to work this morning. I’d rather her not be alone.”
“That’s not a problem. I don’t have any plans today.”
“Thanks,” he said, and then he turned to head out.
“Chris?” she said and he turned around. “What if she doesn’t want me to take her? She might not—”
“After last night, I’d rather not take any chances. Whatever you have to do—whatever you have to say . . .” he let his voice trail off and took a deep breath. “Someone went to a lot of trouble to get inside her apartment and then leave that newspaper where it was sure to be found. Until we know who’s behind this, I don’t want to take any chances.”
Before Jan could respond, Chris disappeared out the front door.
He slid into the seat of his truck and let his head fall to the steering wheel. In all his years, Chris could never remember being this scared about anything or anyone. Maybe the cop was right. Maybe the person just wanted to frighten her, but the possibility that they could take it to the next level was there, nagging him.
The sun seemed too bright when Elizabeth rolled over and glanced over at her alarm clock. She jumped out of bed. It was ten thirty in the morning, and she was late for work.
Why hasn’t Chris called me? Knocked on my door? Something.
She raced through her morning routine, shoved a Pop-Tart in her mouth, grabbed her purse, and ran down the stairs as fast she could.
She was nearing the bottom when Jan opened her door and stepped out into the foyer. “Hi, Jan,” she said in a rush. “Sorry to run, but I’m late for work.”
“I know, dear. Chris wanted to let you sleep. There’s no hurry.”
She stopped in her tracks. “Oh.” She wasn’t sure how she felt about that. “Well, I don’t want to take advantage.”
Jan gave her a small smile, and locked the door to her apartment. “I know. But be that as it may, I’m glad for it. Now, let’s get you to work.”
“You’re taking me?”
“Of course. You heard what the detective said. You are not to be alone, and I do believe driving to work by yourself would qualify as being alone. I mean unless you have a man hiding in your trunk I don’t know about,” she said.
Elizabeth felt a little silly being dropped off to work by her landlady. Granted, she considered Jan a friend, but it was just weird.
When she walked in the front door to the office, she found Chris sitting at her desk with a phone in one ear and a stack of papers in front of him. He had a scowl on his face and bags under his eyes. Guilt washed over her.
Chris looked up, saw her, and gave her a half smile.
She went over to her desk and tucked her purse in the drawer, straightening just as Chris hung up the phone. “How’d you sleep?” he asked.
“All right. You should have woken me. I would have come in earlier.”
“I know that,” Chris said, vacating her chair. “You had a rough night. You needed your rest.”
“And you didn’t?” she asked incredulously.
“I’m fine.”
“Chris,” she said, touching the circles under his eyes.
He stepped back out of reach. “I’m fine,” he insisted.
She dropped her hand, and an awkward silence surrounded them.
He cleared his throat. “There were a few calls this morning. I took care of most of them, but I left you Post-it notes with the ones that still need to be addressed. Also,” he paused as if debating whether to continue. “You received a personal call.”
She felt a lead weight settle in the pit of her stomach. “Who?”
“Your mother-in-law.”
“Oh.”
“Apparently Detective Stephens contacted her first thing this morning.” He left that hanging in the air for a moment before adding. “If your husband was anything like his mother, I have no idea how you put up with him for as long as you did. She’s a vile woman.”
A high-pitched laugh left her lips. For some reason, Chris calling her devil of a mother-in-law vile struck her as funny and nerve-racking at the same time. What in the world had she said to him?
“Sorry,” she said, noting Chris’ furrowed brow. Chris probably thought she was crazy. “It’s just that I’ve felt that way for years, but everyone else seems to love her. It’s refreshing to know I’m not the only one that feels that way.”
Chris smiled. His whole face lit up as he joined in the joke. She felt a warm weight settle in her chest. “Well, don’t you worry. After the conversation I had with her this morning, I doubt my opinion of her will ever change.”
“Thank you.” His words meant more than she could ever hope to explain. He was on her side. It felt good.
There was another long pause before he shifted his weight. “I’ll be in my office if you need me. Terry’s going to drop by in about an hour with lunch. Have you eaten?”
“I had a Pop-Tart on the way over,” she said.
He grimaced. “That’s not lunch. Or breakfast, for that matter. I’ll have Terry add another sandwich and chips.” With that, he turned and walked into his office.
She sighed, refocusing her attention on her desk. There were five notes arranged haphazardly on the right-hand side of her desk.
Scanning the notes quickly, she noticed one was from Stephanie. Feeling as if she’d wasted enough of her day already, she put the note from
her friend aside and started working on returning the other calls first.
She had just hung up with a designer when Terry walked in. “Hey.”
“Hey, pretty lady,” Terry said, all smiles. “Boss man in?”
“Yeah, he’s—”
“Hey.” They both looked over to see Chris propped up against the doorjamb, his arms crossed over his chest.
For a moment, she forgot to breathe. His stance was so casual yet powerful at the same time. Chris’s broad shoulders pulled against the fabric of his shirt, revealing the muscles in his arms. Muscles she had felt beneath her fingertips as they’d held her body against his. She suppressed a shiver at the memory.
He looked over at her and their eyes locked. Time seemed to stop, suspending them in the moment.
Then, just as abruptly as it started, Chris ended it by pushing off the doorframe and walking toward his foreman. “Thanks for picking up lunch.”
“No problem. Gives me an excuse to get out of that heat for a while. I think we’re supposed to reach the high nineties today. Add that to being on top of a roof and you might as well be in an oven.”
They both laughed and the tension in Chris’s shoulders seemed to ease. “Man, I don’t miss that,” he said, taking a seat at the mini conference table in the corner. “As much as I dislike paperwork, I’d trade it for humping shingles on a hot summer day in a heartbeat.”
“Preaching to the choir,” Terry said before taking a mammoth bite of his sandwich.
She slowly walked over to the table where the guys were sitting, picked up the bag with her food, and turned to go back to her desk to eat. “Aren’t you gonna eat with us?” Terry asked.
“Got in late today. I really should keep working.”
He waved his hand dismissively in front of his face. “Work will wait. You should eat.”
She looked over at Chris. His eyes met hers and held for a brief moment before he focused on his meal. “Okay. I guess I can spare a few minutes.”
“Atta girl!’ Terry said and she laughed.
Chris was doing everything he could not to look at Elizabeth as she sat across from him and ate her lunch, but his gaze kept drifting. Everything the woman did was driving him wild! He felt as if his libido had gone into hyperdrive. If that weren’t enough, knowing someone was trying to get to her had him wanting to stake his claim in a very animalistic way. His current thoughts ran along the lines of her, laying on his desk with her pants around her ankles, and him firmly situated between her legs. Just the thought was sending heat throughout his body and making it hard to concentrate.